


Kiss

by Hamimifk (BatchSan)



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Angst, Community: angst_bingo, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, mild AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatchSan/pseuds/Hamimifk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The first time it happens, I try to convince myself it was nothing more than an accident, perhaps just a figment of my imagination.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: _caught in the act_ (angst_bingo)
> 
> Don't worry, it's all innocent here folks! ^_^

The first time it happens, I try to convince myself it was nothing more than an accident, perhaps just a figment of my imagination. We're curled together in the warmth of the sleeping bag, drowsy from a full day of hunting and exploring sections of the forest Rue has gotten to know but I hadn't been to yet. It's that pleasant kind of drowsy, where I know I'll sleep straight through the night even if a cannon is blown to signal the death of yet another tribute.

Rue is tucked against me, and I'm more than certain the younger girl has been asleep awhile. It's as I feel the tendrils of sleep curl around my mind that I feel it - lips pressed against my skin, right at the corner of my mouth. My groggy mind processes it slowly and when it understood what has happened, I peek an eye open only to find Rue's dark eyes closed, face still in slumber. Surely, I had imagined it, perhaps my subconscious calling forth a sweet reminder of tired nights curled up with Prim and a memory of her pressing a goodnight kiss to my cheek before we both succumbed to dreams.

Yes, it was nothing more than my imagination.

The next night, it seems like the Gamemakers have thought it too quiet and make the night as cold as the middle of December, perhaps hoping at least one of us dies just for the hell of it. Sleeping up in a tree promises to not only be stupid, but essentially suicidal. We walk half the night looking for a cave or some kind of enclosure that we can both easily secure and keep an eye out for the predators in the forest - human and animal alike. It's sometime around midnight when we come across a small cliff, cliff being used sparingly as the wall of rock and dirt only rises nine, maybe ten feet into the air before sloping down into a small hill. 

There's a hole where some kind of animal, or animals, had likely been attempting to dig out a burrow before being interrupted and running off. I can see it must've been a large animal as the indent in the earth goes in at least three feet, stretched crudely out over six feet in length and four feet in height. What look like possible claw marks at the very edge are far larger than any bear I've seen and I try not to think about how large the beast that did this was. The claw markings look smooth from many rainstorms and I feel confident in whatever it was, has long since moved on, or died. 

We don't risk a fire even though one is desperately wanted, memories of that poor girl from District 8 still fresh in my mind. So instead, we carefully gather fallen tree branches, leaves, and even two small bushes and do our best to camouflage the area. It takes at least an hour's work before we're satisfied. In the tight space, we munch on a midnight snack of rabbit and berries, having done well with the hunt the previous day and knowing it best to put down some lost calories from the night's trek and work since we can afford it. 

Afterward, we bundle up the best we can in our little bit of clothing and eagerly huddle up within the sleeping bag. Between the frosty air and the late night trek, my eyes are fluttering closed even before we have pulled the flap of the bag up over our heads. The cramped space forces us to lie virtually atop of each other, huddling up so close that if I had had more sense about the situation, I would likely have blushed. 

This time I'm certain about what happens, despite my weariness.

Rue's lips touch mine gently, the touch so light that I'm certain I can convince myself yet again that it hadn't happened. Instead, I open my eyes quickly and find alarm in Rue's dark ones. She flinches when I reach up a hand and lay it gently against the side of her face. Obviously she's expecting a blow, a shout, something horrible to happen. She almost shrinks away from my gentle touch, fearful even when there's no immediate danger.

Tears fill her eyes and I realize she's truly terrified right now. Terrified that she's ruined everything between us. That now I'm attempting to lure her into a false sense of security before I stick my knife into her, which is not impossible as the knife is trapped beneath me where I can reach it in case of emergency. It hurts to see Rue like this, more fragile right now in appearance than the first time I saw her on-screen being chosen for the reaping.

"Look at me," I say in a hushed voice, hoping my words are so quiet that the Gamemakers can't possible know what I've just said.

She does, after a moment, and my heart breaks. I roll over a tad, enough to allow me the opportunity to pin her to the ground, and then my lips are on hers and we're kissing like my parents use to do when they thought I wasn't looking. Rue's so surprised that it takes a full minute for her eyes to flutter close and for her to relax against me. It's clear neither of us has had much practice kissing before, our lips sloppy from too much spit, but it doesn't matter. When we stop to breathe, our pants blessedly hot against each other's faces, Rue is back to herself, fear gone. I'm relieved by this as I pull her tight against me in a reassuring gesture, Rue burying her face against my throat in response.

We fall asleep like this, pressed tight, Rue's breath seeping warmth into my body with each gentle breath she takes as we both drift to sleep. The last thing I register before I pass out completely is her lips pressed to my throat gently.


End file.
